


Rejection Hurts

by DarkLadyEris



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Crossover, Female Harry Potter, Force of Nature Personality Harry, Gen, Immortal Harry Potter, Master of Death Harry Potter, Thanos Courts Death, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-19
Updated: 2019-08-08
Packaged: 2019-10-31 16:10:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17852858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkLadyEris/pseuds/DarkLadyEris
Summary: Thanos has captured the attention of the one he courts, only he also caught the attention of something much more.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this sprung up from all the previews and clips surrounding Infinity War - please keep in mind that while I have watched all the other Marvel movies, I have yet to actually see Infinity War (I don't know why I haven't yet, I just haven't). But I couldn't keep this out of my head so here you go!

It was a solemn scene of tragedy and death that two figures appeared in the side of the battle against Thanos on Wakanda. The first figure was shapeless, tall and imposing, with shadows and darkness oozing from its very presence. A tattered, inky black cloak wrapped around them, floating softly in a breeze that did not exist. Their very ubiquity seemed to radiate an oppressive feeling of something inevitable, something that no one could avoid. Oppressive darkness crept and radiated from the bottom of their cloak, immediately killing off the grass in a perfect circle around the being. 

The second figure was the opposite of the unrelenting entity, with a mass of black curls that seemed to float and defy gravity, with an appearance of the softest of materials, as if someone could run their hands through the softest of silk and come wanting compared to the strands of hair. Underneath the overwhelming mess of hair laid a sharp and aristocratic face blended together from years of nobility lineage that only showcased the most prominent feature that was the second entities eyes, shining orbs of the brightest and strangest green illuminated in the dusty air, seemingly glowing from a distance. The clothing they wore was similar to its companions, a long black cloak that wrapped snuggly around their form that should have been more constricting and suffocating but looked comfortable instead, and illuminated the natural curves of a young woman. Her skin, however, was an unnatural pale color, as if the very life that humanity carried under their skin had been sucked away, leaving a shimmering pale color behind.

“Death,” The woman spoke, frowning softly at the battlefield in front of her. “How many have died today?” With every second that passed, she could feel life forces of both human and not being extinguished with nary a thought or care.

“Altogether?” Death asked softly, peering ceaselessly into the carnage before them. “Over 37 Trillion lives and with more to come if Thanos continues. Only a few of my chosen shall survive, my Merchant, my Servant, the abomination, and of course, you, my Master, will be among the few.”

The woman tsked under her breath at the thought, eyes seemingly glowing brighter. “And this abomination believes he is courting you?”

The entity turned its head to gaze down at the woman as if weighing the thought of answering before the dark hood gave a single nod in answer. 

Huffing in agitation at the thought, the woman turned back to the scene before her, watching the monster erase those who opposed him. She watched the teamwork and the tears, the horror and the determination to not give up. “Absolutely unacceptable. I will be invoking my right today.”

A soft chuckle filled with malice was her answer as if she had expected any other answer from her companion. With a decisive nod, the woman stalked forward with intent, seemingly ignoring the various violent actions going on around her. Her bare feet stepping on the ground but not leaving a single print as the shadows that had been seeping from under her companions cloak jumped to her own shadow before radiating on the ground where she stepped. “Of course, Mistress.” It waved a hand, conjuring up a throne-like chair before sitting down, its long, sharp scythe, resting against its chair.

Once the Mistress of Death had walked close enough to be seen by the fighting occupants, she paused briefly. “Thanos!” She called out, hands folded behind her as she walked forward, gaining the attention of the remaining rebellion and the abomination himself. “You wanted my attention, here I am!”

The fighting ceased for a moment as those still left fighting gazed mutely at each other in surprise. Thanos lowered his fist and the human in his grasp, before dropping the man of Iron to the ground, turning to look at the woman who walked without hurry, without a change in her pace towards him.

The purple Eternal-Deviant hybrid tilted his head to the side as he gazed at the shadows at her bare, pale feet that stole the life force of the ground under her. “Death,” he crooned softly, taking a step towards her and ignoring the rebelling humans around him. “I have hoped that you would eventually come to me.” He held out the non-gauntlet covered hand towards her as if to take her hand and whisk her away.

A cruel laugh was his answer as she stopped several feet away from him and for a moment, the world stood still. The humans found their breath caught in their chests, frozen in primal fear as a terrifying visage overtook her attractive features; something haunting and inevitable, like the ending of a day, the goosebumps of something not right, instinctive and yet, merciful in the sweet, final release. Even Thanos took a step back, eyes widening momentarily before a matching cruel grin echoed on his face. “Even I cannot fault you for how you are, Lady Death. To do otherwise would be foolish.” He said.

“Oh, you poor misguided soul.” She whispered softly at him, “You believe that having the gauntlet and those six stones grant you power equal to Death? The arrogance you show is astounding and normally found among the mortal humans.” The woman flicked a hand towards the still frozen humans who instinctively flinched away from her gaze.

“It is not with arrogance that I court you, Mistress Death. It is with pride, for who else could possibly measure up to you but I, now that I control the six infinity stones.” Thanos remarked with a smug smirk as if daring her to prove him wrong.

“I know of one such being,” came an even crueler smile than earlier that spoke of malicious mischief that spread across her supernatural visage, “The Master of Death.”

Immediately, Thanos scowled down at her, hatred singing in his eyes as his hand, which had been still reaching out, immediately closed in a tight fist. “Who dares call themselves Master over Death?”

“I do.” She answered with a wide smile, spreading her hands out as if in mockery. “But I did not hunt for the title, did not court Death to receive it. Instead, I greeted Death like an old friend.” There was a hint of something outside of Thanos’ jealous knowledge as the woman, the self-titled “Master of” Death who turned her head slightly to look behind her. Immediately, Thanos’ gazed came upon a familiar entity reclining in a throne several hundred feet away, with a simple hum, the entity and the throne upon which it lounged on, disappeared; only for the entity to arrive at the side of the woman, one skeletal hand placed delicately into the pale, human hand simply left facing up.

“My Master completed Our riddle, gathered Our prizes and foolishly thought she could give them back.” Death spoke, their voice raspy like someone having escaped a fire before it slowly shifted to the sound of jackals tearing apart flesh from bone, hair-raising and grueling to listen to, “We chose our companion, she did not choose Us.”

The titan's nostrils flared at the thought as the hatred in his soul festered toward the woman who Death claimed as their own. “If she doesn't exist, how can she be your Master?” He raised his hand to snap his fingers only for a sudden whoosh of air to pass by him. He blinked in surprise, gaze dropping toward his hand only to startle at the sight of a nub from his elbow down. His hand and the gauntlet now rested in the small arms of the woman across from him. It took a moment more before the pain slammed into him with all the subtlety of a spaceship to the face as unimaginable pain erupted throughout his body. It felt like knives under his skin, like his nerves were being fried continuously without reprieve or relief.

Just barely above the overwhelming pain that made it hard to focus, to think, as needles stabbed simultaneously over his body, he heard, “Death,” the woman softly crooked to her companion, “Please help yourself to his soul while I begin undoing his mistake.” 

“Oh Master,” the slithering tone of hissing rattlesnakes caressed the air around them before blackness overtook Thanos vision, “You spoil Us. We have looked forward to tasting this corrupt one's soul.”

Hariel Lilian Potter, The Master of Death, Slayer of Basilisks, Girl-Who-Lived, Youngest Hogwarts Seeker in a Century, TriWizard Champion of 1994, Woman-Who-Conquered, Defender of Justice and Witch, wrinkled her nose in distaste of the hand bleeding freely in front of her and shook the gauntlet until the hand fell to the ground. With that done, the witch looked back towards the humans, who had yet to look away or move. Huffing at their delicate sensibilities, she called out, “Who among you is called the Merchant of Death?”

The man in a metal suit, painted red and gold, reminding the witch of her own house at Hogwarts, stood up from where he had been thrown to the side and walked toward her. “Uhh, I guess that would be me.”

“Merchant, when I place my hand inside this, you will place yours on top of the stones. I want you to think of every person you know who has been taken, every place that had been destroyed.”

“You do know I have a name right? Iron Man? Tony Stark? I'm sure you have heard of me.” He asked, raising an eyebrow in an attempt to feel more comfortable with the fact that _the woman who controlled Death **was speaking to him.**_

The deadpan stare he received back did not help his nerves as he watched the ethereal woman slide her hand inside the massive glove and for each stone to begin glowing as soon as it was placed on her hand. “I care not for the lives of mortals. Focus Merchant, on those whose lives have been lost.” 

Tony Stark blinked in surprise before closing his eyes as he placed his hand on top of the gauntlet. Immediately he felt as if he was being sucked inside his own mind, suddenly appearing through flashes of distant memories: vague sounds, smells, images rushed past him, momentarily overwhelming the superhero before a lightweight touch of a hand on his shoulder caused him to flinch away in surprise. 

He turned slightly to gaze at the woman who now stood next to him. “Tony Stark, Man of Iron, Merchant of Death,” the woman spoke softly yet clearly. “Three times you have avoided Death.” A familiar scene of the convey exploding and though he had been unconscious for it, he watched as the makeshift surgeons in the terrorist group put the first reactor in his chest. The scene swirled away in a flurry of colors before another scene arose, one where he is taking the nuke through the portal, once again, as soon as it ended, another began playing, when Captain America slammed his shield against his chest. A flash of disappointment, anger and something unknown but equally negative flares through him. “How interesting.” The woman pauses, gaze fixed on the scene. “I wonder if the Servant has also escaped three times.” A soft hum filled the air before that ethereal gaze focused back on him. “Merchant, when the time comes, I shall personally greet you. For it is not often that one is favored by Death. Besides the Servant and yourself, there is only one other, a mischievous young woman by the name of Hela. Death granted her a boon,” Here, the woman paused before intensely staring into his eyes, “My boon to you is the return of Earth to how it was supposed to be before the abomination began destroying everything. For what is Death, without Life.”

The moment the words crossed her lips, Tony was thrown out of his own mind and could only stare wide-eyed as the world shifted and seemed to pause before a sudden explosion of noise, color, light, covered the thoughts, vision and hearing of everything. And then, as if Thanos hadn't wiped everything from existence, those who had been lost returned to the same spot, dazed and confused but in perfect health. The land sprouted new life among the barren landscape, with grass and plants and trees growing quickly, bugs and birds and mammals appearing. 

Tony could only choke back his smartass reply as a confused Peter Parker appeared, standing only feet away from the superhero. The billionaire couldn't have stopped himself if he tried, which he wouldn't have, as he suddenly jerked towards the teenager, his body speeding up before he flung himself at the kid, wrapping his arms around him and holding him tight.

Around him, he could hear the sounds of joy as those lost were reunited with those who cared for them. It took several long moments before Tony remembered that there was someone who had caused this all to happen. He spun around, blinking in surprise at the empty space where the woman had stood. Despite not seeing her, he couldn't help but glance up at the clear blue sky and whisper, “Thank you.”

Death turned to look at their companion, “What do you think of Our Merchant, My Master?”

“You have a thing for sequences of three’s, don't you?” She teased back, eyes flinging mischievously.

The entity stiffened momentarily, “We know not what you imply.” It said, gliding back towards its domain and turning it's cloaked back to their companion.

“Sure you don't. So it will just be a massive coincidence if your Servant has also escaped your clutches three times.”

Death sniffed imperiously, “My Servant has escaped more times than that. He frequently kills himself to flirt with Us.”

That brought the Master of Death up short, “What?” She paused as she considered the statement. “Really?”

“It is naught but the truth, my Master.”

“Huh, good for you.” The woman patted the entity on the shoulder, “When can I meet him?”

Death paused, turning their hood to stare at the woman who only gazed back with mischief clear across her face. “No.”

“I promise to be good.”

“No.”

“I promise to keep my teasing to a minimum.”

“Still, no.”

“How does next Friday sound to you? I don't think there are any wars going on that day, we should be free.” The woman completely railroaded the entity whenever it tried to interject, “Dinners sounds good, somewhere nice where we can sit down and eat and get to know one another. Maybe we can even invite Merchant along with the next dinner. Make it a regular family get together, that sounds good.” The woman walked off, speaking to herself and making plans, leaving the entity of Death bewildered in her wake.


	2. Death Day Dinner

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not really happy with this but I rewrote the chapter several times and I'm just tired of it now and I want to write other stuff so here we go.

“What have you done?” Death asked, a cloaked hand gripping their scythe as they gazed out at the restaurant they had been summoned to only a minute before. They had been suitably surprised as their Master did not often call upon them, choosing instead to allow them to do as they pleased. It was something that they often bragged about to the other eternal entities how wonderful their Master was compared to their own chosen. Just within the entryway, there were party streamers, a buffet table at the back of the room lined with pizza, snacks, salads, punch, and other various things appetizers. In the center of the room was a round table with a throne-like chair similar to the one Death frequently summoned when putting on the theatrics for mortals followed by four normal, cushioned chairs around the rest of the table. Besides the elegant table settings, five little paper placards were placed above each plate arrangement for assigned seating for the four guests and one host.

“Death!” Harry smiled innocently, looking for all intents and purposes like she had done nothing wrong as she floated a giant banner in the air that read, “First Annual Death Day Dinner” in bright, sparkly letters across one of the archways. “I'm so glad you could make it! I was worried you wouldn't be able to get away from work.”

Death gazed with dead eyes toward its master, “You summoned me here moments ago.”

“Mhmm,” she hummed, “that's because I knew if I sent you an invite you wouldn't show up! And where would we be without our guest of honor?”

The entity took a moment to take a deep breath, ignoring the fact that it was a human movement and not necessary at all. Sometimes, humans had the best way of dealing with situations, especially concerning the force of nature ex-human that was their Master and how easily she liked destroying best-laid plans and ideas (ask Fate and Luck, the entities had a love/hate relationship with their Master). “Why?” They asked, raising a hand to pinch the empty socket where a nose should be, feeling a headache forming already.

“Why are we having this party?” She asked, twirling her wand as she sent the pins to hold the banner in place. “Because everyone has a birthday except yourself and the other entities and let's be honest, I hate most of them anyway.” 

“We are sure the feeling is mutual, _My Master._ ” Death dryly replied.

“Yes, yes, I already know Fate has had it out for me and Luck is unnaturally involved in my life. Not to mention that Life is just,” she shuddered at the memory of Life stalking her, attempting to get her to renounce Death and join them, “creepy.”

Death glanced away from its master, in an effort to hide the amusement it radiated. Life had always liked to take away the few things that Death had paid extra attention to, something that was occasionally infuriating and having witnessed the verbal smackdown their Master had given the other entity had cause Death endless amounts of amusement as time passed. Of course, Death always retaliated by killing Life’s newest toys before their time, they were so fond of creating ‘Champions’ and Death felt it was only fair play by ruining their fun early. It also didn't help that their Master was theirs, now and forever, the moment she had accepted their little quest and had been branded with their mark upon her awakening. Infinity and Eternity often stayed away from the other set of twins, Life and Death, but frequently watched as commentators of the numerous wars that erupted from their spats. 

Luck, Chaos, Magic, Destiny, Time, Fate, and one of Death's earliest children, Oblivion took turns stepping in between the arguments. Four of Death's other children, the Horsemen, often instigated and goaded the fights between entities. Pestilence had a bad gambling and betting problem that Death should really discuss with them about before it got out of control as they usually started most of everything with a snide comment. Of the ten total entities - Death enjoyed the company of two, Magic and Chaos.

Destiny and Fate, twin shades like Life and Death or Eternity and Infinity, had personalities as capricious as their affinities and it always rubbed Death wrong. Luck was the opposite of Chaos and tended to be a shifty character, one Death didn't put much trust in. Magic and it's partner Time were two peas in a pod though Time was known for sleeping for millennia at a time.

“What time are your other guests arriving?” Death asked, seating themselves in the throne and drawing themselves out of their thoughts.

“Hmm, in about five minutes their portkeys will be activating.” She went back to observing the decorations, twitching the Elder wand every couple of moments to adjust a streamer or knick-knack.

\--

_Merchant of Death_

_The honor of your presence is requested at the Peverell Restaurant on Friday, May second,  
for Cocktails, Hors d'oeuvres and dinner at six o'clock in the evening for the first annual Death Day Dinner._

_Transportation will be provided. Please be ready to depart at five-fifty promptly._

_The Master of Death_

To say that Tony had been surprised when a beautiful snowy owl, something definitely not native to New York City, had shown up at his tower with an ornately addressed letter in its clutches, Tony had been willing to humor the situation. Upon seeing it addressed to one of his monikers, he could only feel his eye twitch in thought. Despite the press having used it in the past, there was only one person he knew that actively addressed him as such and it couldn't be good to receive a letter from that person. He had tentatively taken the letter dropped in his hands before the owl flew off, and it had taken him another five minutes to work up the courage to open it after having FRIDAY scan it for anything harmful.

Reading the invitation, Tony could only choke back hysterical laughter as he fell back against his couch, feeling like the wind had been knocked out of him. Of all the things he had expected, an invitation to dinner had been the last thing. 

The question now was, did he accept and find out what was going on? 

Or ignore it.

Who was he kidding? He'd be going! He didn't want to spend the rest of his life wondering what could have happened. Now, the question was - What kind of gift should he bring as a thank you for the invitation to the party?

\--

Harry beamed as the familiar swirl of magic deposited one Tony Stark, a heavily scarred man wearing his underwear with Cheeto stains over his naked chest and hands and a half-rotted, half-normal looking woman onto the entryway of the banquet room. “Good evening, I'm Harry and I'll be your host this evening, I'm so glad you could attend tonight.”

“Thank you for having us,” Tony cleared his throat awkwardly before giving her a nervous smile. “I wasn't sure what would be a good gift, so I bought a bottle of red wine, one of my favorites.”

“Thank you, Merchant,” with a wave of her hand the bottle in his arms was floated through the hall and onto a table before she smiled pleasantly at the trio. “If you wouldn't mind handing your coats and cloaks over to Uriel, he will sort them for you and for you, Servant,” the woman eyed the half-naked man before snapping her fingers and a wrinkly, hunched over creature appeared. Overall it’s appearance was droopy and depressing, with long ears that hung limply on either side of his head matched only by the long nose that was stuck squarely on its bald head. The creature wore a simple but elegantly made butler outfit with a crest of some kind embroidered on the left breast pocket of the jacket.

It bowed low upon arriving, “Mistress called for Kreacher?”

Harry smiled, “Please outfit our guest here in something appropriate for the evening, Kreacher, thank you.”

“Of course Mistress, Kreacher will help the disgusting, filthy Muggle dress since he is too stupid to do so on his own.” The House Elf muttered under his breath as he began shuffling toward the man.

“What the shit.” The half-naked man said as he was suddenly levitated and taken into another room.

Harry smiled serenely in response, turning to her other two guests. “Merchant, Hela, feel free to help yourself to any of the refreshments. If you require anything simply ask one of the attendants,” she waved a hand to the oddly tall humanoid figures (if humans could naturally stand at a minimum of seven feet with sharp, almost avian features in their faces), “who will happily answer any request.”

“Thank you, Mistress,” Hela inclined her regal head once in answer before sweeping into the room. She had come prepared for a party, trading the black cloak and black and green skin-tight bodysuit for an elegantly crafted dark emerald and black gown that flowed around her, still embodying the essence of Death. Harry watched with amused eyes as the woman knelt at the feet of the entity of Death. 

“My Master, I thank you for allowing me to visit with you upon this day of Spring.” The Asgardian woman spoke with her head bowed towards Death in respect.

“Rise, my ferry woman, it is _My Mistress_ you will give thanks on this day.” came the raspy reply before the entity turned away from the kneeling woman, instead staring back off to the side where one of the avian-featured tall creatures, faces just a little too long to be considered human, kneeled with a platter of hors d'oeuvres for the entity to choose from its selection.

Hela immediately stood up after being dismissed, turning instead to face the patiently waiting witch. “Mistress, I thank you for this opportunity.”

Harry merely smiled benignly as she swept serenely passed to sit down at the table next to Death. “Think nothing of it, my dear.”

“So, why does Hela defer to you after Death? Shouldn't you be top of the food chain?”

“ _My Mistress,_ ” Death cut in, raising one sleeve to stretch out a bony hand to twine around one loose curl that flowed around the witches shoulders, “respects my duty and as such allows my children to do their jobs without interruption.” 

“Your children?” The man of iron asked, raising a well-groomed eyebrow at the thought.

“Yes, Death has many children-” Harry cut in with a soft, fond smile, “The four horsemen, Oblivion, Anubis and Nephthys, Mictecacihuatl and Mictlantecuhtli, Mot, Enma and Izanami, Februus and Mania,” the woman paused as she tried to recall who else was one of Death's children, “The reapers and their variant of every region, Kalma, Charon, Hades, Dea Tacita and Dis Pater, Ereshkigal, Dhumavati and Yama, plus many, many more. But they tend to be favorited more so than others simply because they do their jobs and file the correct paperwork so they get to be in charge of their charters.”

“Paperwork? There is paperwork in the afterlife?” The missing guest asked as he wandered back into the party, cleaned up and mostly dressed.

“Well of course Merchant, how else would anything stay organized?” Death asked with barely hidden humor.

“Huh, I just figured you ate people's souls or stole their remaining time or something weird like that.” He remarked, slight surprise evident across his bare face. The bland expressions he received back from the entity and its Mistress had him grinning unashamedly back.

Hela seated herself in the chair next to Death, waving a hand and summoning one of the reapers forward before ordering some tea for the table. “Yes Miss Hela,” Melwas answered with a bow before walking away.

“Oh shit, you got chimichangas.” Deadpool cheered, popping up from the hallway dressed in a pair of nice slacks and a tank top with Kreacher following behind him, looking aggravated that the muggle had managed to escape before he could finish. Harry merely sent a small wave towards the house elf in response, watching as the servant of death rushed forward, pushing Tony out of the way in his attempt to begin stuffing as many of the Mexican burritos in his mouth as he could.

Harry immediately drifted from the entryway to help the billionaire stand upright and escorted him to his seat before sending a fierce glare towards the man at the buffet table. “You are being most rude, _Servant._ ” Her tone turned as cold as a blizzard, sharp and cutting to the point.

Wade turned around slowly, eyes wide as he slowly chewed the two burritos he had stuffed into his mouth, lowing the third he had started trying to cram in it. “‘Orry.” He breathed out, sending crumbs flying everywhere. 

The witches nose immediately crinkled in disgust, “Perhaps some time to think over your rude actions would be most appropriate.” She snapped her fingers, eerily reminiscent of a certain purple villain and the three other guests and numerous staff witnessed Deadpool suddenly disappearing.

Once he had vanished, Harry seated herself in between Death and Tony, waving a hand to summon several of the attendants forward with their trays. "I have prepared a delicious meal for us today with a variety of dishes - including fugu, Echizen Kurage or otherwise known as Nomura's jellyfish, sannakji - otherwise known in Korea as live baby octopus, as well as a variety of sushi and sashimi to eat." Harry pointed out each of the dishes as they were placed on the table.

Tony nervously cleared his throat, "Any particular reason you chose some of the most dangerous foods in the world?"

The placid smile that stretched across her face only added to her creepy answer, "How else are you to enjoy life - and your meal - without a little danger thrown in? Eat up!"

Death chuckled lowly under their hood as they waved a hand, having one of the servants begin filling up the entities plate.

The group began getting their own plates, chatting softly to each other as the missing party guest arrived back into the room with a small pop of displaced air, being seated in the empty chair without further ado. "Oh, that was fuc-" He began only to stop as the witch side-eyed him with a small frown. "That was very enlightening. Yeah, that's what I was going to say."

"I do hope you've learned your lesson and that you shall not be repeating that display of rudeness again." She asked, raising an eyebrow at him in between bites.

"Yeah, yeah. Totally. Lots of lessons learned. Never doing that again. Nope." He sent her a look of pure concentration, "You would make a wonderful villain." 

"Oh?" Death asked with a small purr, tilting their hood to the side slightly. 

Tony blinked in surprise at the realization that he hadn't actually witnessed the entity eating anything or raising it even off of their plate but it had been steadily disappearing as if vanishing into thin air. His eyes narrowed at the thought before deciding he was too sober to be trying to understand the entity of Death's eating habits and focused back into the conversation. 

" - I mean with her scary demeanor, magic, and terrifying punishments - cause let's be honest, while absolutely frightening, it was such a turn-on getting punished -" he sent a flirty, roguish smile at the witch who merely stared back nonplussed, "she could easily attempt to take over the world or the universe, you know? So like, why don't you?" He asked.

"Would you like to hear a story?" Death asked in return, everyone sitting at the table could hear the smirk growing behind the hood. "My Mistress was always meant to be, mine. There has never been anyone else, and there never shall be. Hundreds of years ago, in a fit of boredom, We gifted three wizards with three gifts. A stone, taken from Our pocket, a wand with the wood of an Elder tree and a sliver of bone from Our arm and finally, a cloak, a piece of fabric ripped from Our own. As the years passed and ownership passed along, until one day, a curious little child stared Death in the face at the day of her demise. After hearing her father and watching her mother being murdered - instead of looking at the pathetic creature about to kill her, she instead looks at Us, looks to the most dangerous being in the room and smiles."

The entity pauses, turning their hood to face the woman who merely smiled at him in response to their story. "She, with the help of her clever little witch mother, activated the runes surrounding the nursery and instead rebounded the curse back to the creature, eradicating his body in the process. Our darling little Mistress has escaped death three times - much like each of you - and when the moment came for her, she welcomed Us with open arms and a gentle smile as if We were a dearly missed friend.

"We enjoy the bloodthirst she displays when someone wrongs Us, cheats Us. Oh but it is beautiful to watch her dispatch and annihilate someone from existence for believing that they could stop Us, control Us.

"Though the date is an auspicious one."

"Oh yes," Harry sent a soft smile towards the entity, "Linearly, this marks our - oh, twenty-fifth anniversary."

"Twenty-fifth?" Tony asked, leaning forward slightly with a furrowed brow.

"By this linear timeline yes, twenty-five years together. In actuality," Harry paused for a moment with her head tilted to the side in thought, "I honestly don't know how long we have been together. I stopped keeping track around our six hundredth year together."

"We have been together for eight thousand, four hundred and ninety-eight days, My Mistress."

"Oh, hm, well then." She gave a small shrug of her shoulders, seemingly not concerned with it.

"We believe that you deliberately forgot the time period after your thousandths year as that was when you decided to give notebooks to the reapers, My Master." Death chuckled with mirth, their cloak shaking softly with each huff.

Harry hummed in response, looking away nervously, "Oh yes, let's not talk about that."

"Oh? What's this about reapers and notebooks?" Deadpool asked with a sly grin. 

The air pressure suddenly dropped down on the table, pressing everyone against their chairs as if gravity had suddenly increased. All warmth seemed to be sucked from the room, leaving the guests to see even their breath as chills began running down everyone's backs. "We. Do. Not. Speak. Of. This." Each word was punctuated with a deep tone, blank face and hellfire green eyes that burned with malicious fury.

"Okay, sorry." He croaked in response, barely able to get the words out.

Within a blink, the pressure disappeared and warmth resumed as if it has never occurred. Tony absently realized that the soft sound of classical instruments resumed and he hadn't even realized that they had been playing before. He usually was more aware of his surroundings, especially in such an odd situation.

"Now," Harry began with a soft smile, completely at odds to the terrifying picture she had made previously, "Would anyone care for a Treacle Tart?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is going to be a small little add-on after this, mostly just something that tickled my funny bone.

**Author's Note:**

> Those mentioned favored by Death are Hela, who serves as the ferrywoman, the Merchant of Death or Tony Stark, the Servant or Deadpool and Harry, as the Master of Death.
> 
> Please review and let me know what you think!


End file.
